There wasn't any question which block the Dragon had meant: this three-foot length of hard white granite looked nothing like the crude limestone ashlars that made up the rest of the foundation layer. Identification aside, though, she couldn't imagine how she and Dalar were going to remove it. Dalar stood between her and the street, facing forward and back over his shoulderblades in quick succession. He looked like an extreme example of a spectator watching both sides of a game of net-ball. Sharina was afraid that the bird's movements were going to attract more attention than they'd help, but she was too unsure of what she was doing to tell him to stop jerking his head around. "Well, he said...," she murmured, trying to grip the stone with her fingertips. To her amazement, it did have a greasy willingness to move; but whatever had happened to normal friction, the stone still weighed twice what she and Dalar did together. Sharina drew the Pewle knife and thrust it into the gap between the altar stone and the block to its left.
